Speak of Grace
by futurerustfuture-dust
Summary: Midgard is gone, cracked in half and lost to the pages of the history books. Now Thanos looms in the distance, growing more powerful than ever as forces many thought long gone begin to rise from the ashes. With no home left, and no family save the one she'd created herself, Natasha's not about to give up without a fight. Part three, follow up to Darkness and Breathe. WIP.
1. And The World Was Gone

**Hello friends! We are now beginning the third, and final, piece of this trilogy that Jessy was an absolute darling enough to inspire me to write. If you're new to this, well, I highly recommend taking a look at Better Not to Breathe Than to Breathe A Lie, as well as Consign Me Not To Darkness before endeavoring to read this, otherwise it just might not make sense.**

**As ever-thank you all a million for reading, for sticking with me till this point, and I hope you enjoy! You're all the very, very best.**

* * *

As with every civilization that came before, that had suffered and lost, that was bitter and determined not to fade into the back pages of the history books as nothing more than a memory, those who remained rebuilt. They continued on, the mortals too proud to give up so easily, and the Aesir doing all they could to offer their help. Splitting between both Asgard and Vanaheim, Loki and Thor oversaw the opening of new ports between the realms so that those with family on one realm or another could visit quicker, and Natasha worked with Sif and Steve to train those who had remained behind. In taking on the Skrull they'd lost many Asgardian soldiers, and with the threat of Thanos looming over Nat's head, a wicked blade of vengeance and despair, she was all too eager to be as prepared as she could manage. Those who stayed behind, human, mutant, and Aesir, were all too willing to learn, and as Tony and Bruce had assimilated into the culture the weapons that they were all given to train with were becoming better crafted, combinations of human engineering ingenuity and the magic the Aesir had so long taken for granted, the two meshing to everyone's surprise. Tony was all too glad to make use of the magic that had once been denied he and the others of Midgard, the ancient arts having been guarded heavily and kept away in the Allfather's fear of them being used against his people should the Midgardians have tried to take control of their planet once more.

Though she often all but fell into bed in the evenings from exhaustion, the training, the new weapons, everything helped take Natasha's mind off of what had happened, off of the nightmares that fueled her every evening, the Titan's bright eyes seeking her out even when she was safely nestled between the two men she loved, finding her and picking her apart piece by piece until she woke up shivering and screaming, Loki's arms wrapping tight around her as he held her through the worst of it, Thor reaching for the knife he now kept underneath the pillow, brandishing it at shadows and wind, those constant companions to the nightmares that plagued them all. Though neither of the men had as violent of fits as Natasha seemed prone to, they both suffered as she had, preferring to do it silently rather than wake the castle with their panicked shouts. She sometimes woke, after having fallen back into a less than restful sleep, to see Loki already having risen hours before they did, the heavy bags beneath his eyes only deepening as time went on. Thor, too, looked more and more exhausted as time wore on, the odd calm sinking into their bones until paranoia became as close a friend as fear, not just for themselves but those who they now claimed sovereignty over.

Thor was crowned a week after the Allfather's death and the destruction of Midgard, the celebrations understandably muted as they held a vigil not only to the honor and memory of Odin but also all who had fallen and been lost in the tragedies. Nat was certain it would go on forever, holding Loki's hand tight in her own throughout the naming ceremony, keeping him as steady as he and Thor did her, drawing strength from their presence as she blinked back tears. The ceremony would serve, she supposed, and did her best to commit to memory those she'd been familiar with losing. They would be avenged, she promised herself. Each of them would be avenged, if she had to take it out on Thanos' flesh herself. That, she told herself as she drank deep swallows of ale that evening, the toasting to the victorious, remembered dead going on even longer than the damn ceremony itself, would be no hardship for her.

It was Thanos' turn to be afraid, having taken everything from the humans, and given the Asgardians, and all those protected under them, a banner to rally under.

* * *

"You've nearly got it," Natasha said, an encouraging smile on her face as she wiped her brow of sweat, having thrown her opponent's weapon to the ground not moments ago. The young girl was red-faced and sweating, huffing quietly as she moved on silent feet to grab her fallen sword, pushing a piece of brown hair out of her eyes.

"I'm not used to fighting with a sword. Usually I just pass right through the guy and drag him into the ground," Kitty muttered, twirling the sword in her hand, the movement a little clumsy but getting better. It was certainly a far shot from where she'd been not a few weeks before, having complained of her arms being sore after holding the blade for more than a few minutes. Nat allowed her smile to turn indulgent as she tipped her own sword against Kitty's, meaning to flip it out of the girl's hold. She kept a strong grip on it this time, though, twisting it now to parry Natasha's own advancement, the scratch of metal on metal ringing in the almost empty training yard. The others had yet to rise, the sun only having made its way above the horizon line half an hour or so ago, the women having trained in the first lights of the day. The only others kept far enough back to remain out of reach, Xavier and Erik silent in one another's company, and Kitty and Natasha let them stay there as they entered another round, Kitty immediately putting Natasha on the defensive as she began to lunge her way closer. She moved quick as any Asgardian, light footed and so silent it begged the question whether or not Natasha was fighting against a ghost, but her sword hand was still clumsy, and she still had trouble with the balance. More than once Kitty allowed her guard to be dropped in favor of aiming a high kick at Natasha's face or throat, and though Nat would always dodge out of the way she was certain not every foe of Kitty's would be so lucky.

Shadowcat they called her, Natasha mused, as the girl slipped through the ground and popped up behind her, Nat barely managing to jump and avoid the low-sweeping kick that would've knocked her legs out from under her had she not been so keen to pick up on the girl's heavy breathing. She slipped the blade closer to the girl, but it wasn't the girl she was seeing, but the metal man that she'd faced against on Earth, whose eyes had gone blank as he looked up at her. Her sword fell to the side, Kitty's hand having kicked the loose weapon from her grip, and Natasha was soon to fall down as well, the ground harsh as it came crashing to meet her head.

"Sorry!" The young girl said quickly, her eyes blowing wide and her hand rising to cover her mouth, before the second stretched out to help her. Nat took it with a quiet thanks, though her palm felt clammy in comparison to Kitty's own warm one, and she was certain the trembling that she had to tamp down on had little to do with the strain of her muscles keeping her up, and more to do with the fact that every time she shut her eyes all she could see were the dead faces of those she'd lost, whether intentionally or by accident. All of them. They'd depended on her to keep them safe, she'd sworn she'd keep Thor in line. That she'd end it.

"Are you alright?" Kitty asked, her brow pulled tight as she looked up at the girl in concern. Nat wasn't sure how long she'd been staring at the same flat stretch of ground, and so quickly looked up and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Really good job, Kitty. Really good. I think that'll be it for today if you don't mind."

"Oh, sure. Yeah, thanks for meeting me so early and everything." The young girl pulled away and gave a half smile, holding herself tight. It hadn't been easy for her, adjusting, Nat had figured. She'd seen the way the girl had listlessly wandered the halls the first few days after the small council had been disbanded. She'd tried to engage her in as much as she could, but with Nat's own schedule having been full with trying to assimilate the rest of the humans and Aesir who'd been displaced with the new influx of guests to the realm, she hadn't been able to do much to offer any help. Now at least Kitty seemed to think she had a purpose, and Nat was grateful that she'd managed to at least help someone. The two parted ways with little else said between them, Nat snagging both of the swords before she looked up to see Xavier having made his way closer to the two of them, Erik gone.

"Professor," Nat said, dipping her head sa she forced herself to smile, slipping one of the swords into the sheath at her side. She refused to go without at least one weapon, though she was packing several at the moment, many of them small enough that they hardly made a difference even after she'd strapped the knives onto her thighs or back, and they all hid easily enough when she assumed the gowns expected of her as a woman of court. There were some traditions that had to be upheld, she'd reminded herself every morning when dressing in the flowing robes and constricting metal bustiers of the land, and it was a small sacrifice on her behalf she supposed.

"Lady Natasha," the man inclined his head slightly. "Can we take a moment?"

Oh. She hadn't been expecting that. After they'd decided on Vanaheim she'd assumed that Xavier would've left with some of the others who were unwilling or unable to fight, assumed his place would've been where he could help rebuild, such as his friend Hank had done, the blue furred man explaining he was far more of a thinker and helper than a fighter. She hadn't blamed him, though she'd wished she'd been able to go with him to Vanaheim, if only to see the reactions of the Vanir who caught a glimpse of him.

There was just no fitting in, she supposed, sometimes.

Xavier started down the path leading alongside the training grounds, which were now slowly beginning to fill up with the same recruits she'd seen Sif and Steve put through their paces right alongside Asgard's own guard. Nat took her place behind him, pushing him gently along the beaten track where she and Steve had ran when they'd first been soldiers, freshly taken from Midgard to be the newest members of Asgard's armies. She shivered at the memories. It seemed a lifetime ago.

"This is where you started, is it not?" Xavier asked, his voice light, bright as the slow rising sun, his eyes never needing to rise for her to know that she had his full attention, and she was reminded that he could read minds.

She nodded. "Yes. Not all that long ago, though it feels that way," she said with a small, humorless smile. "Hard to believe it. There was once a time when ten years would pass in a month here. I had been gone from Midgard for seventy years, but it was only seven months here." She murmured. The terror had been so pronounced then, when she'd found out just how much she'd missed, that everyone she'd ever loved had died while she'd been trained by the enemy, brought into the fold and into the beds of both princes. Eight months it'd been now, and there she was, married, and trying to figure out the best way to keep her second home from being destroyed. It was enough to make her head turn even without Xavier's questions, which seemed to never end, asking about what she'd done when she'd been first taken, how she'd been trained, what had happened when she'd found out about what had happened. She couldn't help but wonder why the hell he didn't bother just reading her mind if he had so many questions, as concentrating on the past wasn't one of her favorite pastimes, especially not when they had a war to plan as it was.

"I'm sorry, I know this all seems rather trite," Xavier said finally. "I simply wonder if we're going about this in the correct direction. Planning for Thanos. If the methods which you have described to me are similar to what you are currently putting the new soldiers through, then it serves to reason he'll be anticipating a battle."

"I don't know if he's anticipating anything," she said dryly. "I'll have to ask him the next time he pops over for tea."

Xavier pulled away from her, turning his chair around to stare, suddenly very serious, at her. Her mouth went dry, all sense of words and language disappearing as she stared down at him. He beckoned her closer, and, swallowing thickly, she bent over slightly to stand just a little bit closer.

"This is not a joke, Natasha," he said, and there was a strange edge to his words that she was unfamiliar with. Every other dealing with the professor she'd had had been a lighter affair, reminiscent to when they'd first begun talking. Now, staring into the deep blue eyes of the older man in front of her a very inhuman chill spread up her spine. Why did she have the feeling that he was taking her apart piece by piece, observing her, then slowly putting her back together in a different order than he'd first found her? "I know you mean well but you have not taken into consideration what it means that you are getting these people ready to militarize. We do not know where to find Thanos, where to attack him and hurt him most. Is this not what you have assured us?"

She nodded her head, not quite trusting herself to speak, not just then. She wondered why he bothered with questions when he could just as easily have jumped right to the point.

"Then would it not be the smarter option to plan counter attacks? It is only logical that the titan will attack Vanaheim, where he thinks us to be weakest. Perhaps we ought to have a faction of soldiers sent there in order to maintain the peace and keep them safe? More than that, perhaps you are wasting your time in teaching my people how to fight with swords and spears and shields. The enemy will not be using those weapons, will he?"

"I don't know," Natasha said, her lips pulling tight. "I'm teaching them what I know best. Steve and Sif are doing the exact same. I couldn't ask them for anything else, especially when they do not have any further power."

"I wouldn't ask you to take it upon yourself, I know you are far busier than you are used to." Xavier said. "I am asking, however, to open up my institute before, and make it mandatory that the others attend, to learn how to work as a cohesive group should the worst happen."

"I'm not going to make anyone fight who doesn't want to," Natasha said, voice sudden as she pulled away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Nothing's going to change that. You force people to fight and you'll looking at a higher possibility of desertion, which means it won't matter what fancy maneuvers or tricks you can teach them because they'll be as far away as they can possibly get before Thanos gets anywhere near to them. You're more than welcome to start up your school again, Xavier. But I'm not forcing anyone to do anything."

"Like you were forced to, you mean?" Xavier asked, his eyes narrowing as he sat back further in his chair, his hands resting on the wheels of his chair, knuckles white. He wasn't happy with her, she didn't need to read his mind in order to tell that, but what else was she supposed to say? She had a line she'd drawn when she'd first started thinking about training. There was no crossing it, not then, not ever.

If it killed them all then she'd go down bringing as many of Thanos' men down with her as she could, and that would be that. They'd all die together if it came to it.

Xavier paused, considering her for a moment, before he released the tight grip on his wheels and laced his hands together in his lap. "You think you're very brave, don't you? Wanting to stand and fight until you die?" He murmured, and something about the way he spoke sounded melancholy, as though he were a hundred years older than he really was, had seen more than he'd thought. "Haven't enough died because of your bravery and your desire to do what you saw right? Perhaps let someone else take the chance that they may be correct."

Ah. So that's where it came from, she supposed, as the pieces finally clicked together. She allowed herself a humorless smile, her cheeks aching with the strain of it. How long had it been since she'd managed a genuine one? "You've been talking to Erik a lot, haven't you?"

"Whether I have or have not is not important at the moment-."

"He's telling you he's not happy with what's been going on, that he wants to militarize you all. Charles you know that won't end well," Natasha said simply, her voice growing soft with sympathy. They wanted so badly for it all to be over, for the to somehow get some semblance of vengeance for the atrocities Thor had been forced to commit. She understood. She empathized. But sending mutants to be massacred would get nothing done except to dwindle their already pathetic numbers, and that she would not sit by and let happen. Even if Thor and Loki did manage to get the treaties with Alfheim and Jotunheim, would there be enough? She'd only heard the same rumors that Thor and Loki had about the Titan's strength, about the Other and his army of Chitauri that he commanded that would follow the Titan into battle.

And if rumors were true, if Thanos had promised vengeance to the Dark Elves that had been awakened upon the destruction of Midgard-.

She allowed for none of this to show on her face, good enough at keeping her thoughts well in check that she doubted if the change in them even registered to him. She hoped, for her sake and his sanity and belief in her own strength, that he remained oblivious. "You have to trust me, have to trust us. If any of us are to make it through these difficult times it will be through banding together, right? If we fall apart, any of us, then we're all doomed."

His expression soured for the briefest of moments, as though taken aback that she was lecturing him, as though he ought to have been doing it instead. The displeasure faded a moment later, the professor suddenly looking very tired and very old. She felt her heart go out for him, knowing all too well that it couldn't have been easy for him to have asked her such a thing, and she extended a hand to reach out to his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything that's happened," she said, voice soft as she crouched so he wouldn't have to strain to look up at her anymore, all but willing him to feel the agony she put herself through every damn day she had to look out the window and know that people were suffering because of her. Because she hadn't been fast enough, because she hadn't spoken loudly enough about Thor not going down to Midgard, because she'd possibly pushed him away with her own marriage. The excuses she made to blame herself seemed as endless as her guilt, threatening to wash her away if she didn't hold fast to the possibility that a greater day would come from this suffering and this hardship. "And I promise you we are doing everything that is possible to make this as safe as possible. For everyone. But I need your trust, Charles. I can't do it without your support, yours and Erik's, and you can tell him that as well."

* * *

There was little to be said from there, and after Natasha had brought Xavier back into the castle she'd carried on towards her own shared bedroom, sure she'd find it empty, the other two likely having either gone down to breakfast or else disappeared to work out further treaties. They were both working themselves as hard as they could, preserving what peace and cultivating further growth between realms as quickly as they could, and for once she was grateful for the peace of the empty bedroom. The tub was already filled with hot water, a courtesy of the serving staff that Natasha would be forever grateful for, and after stripping from her sweat stained training clothing she sank past the once solid surface, keeping a dagger within arm's reach. Just in case.

The heat worked nearly as well on her tense muscles as Loki's expert hands, and it wasn't long before Natasha was closing her eyes and tipping her head back against the cool upper lip of the washtub, a soft sigh releasing from her lungs as she tried to relax. Tried, in vain, to clear her mind, to not let herself break down. Just once she'd like to find solace, one moment of comfort, especially on her own. She had to be able to do this on her own, find her own anchor to her happiness in case-in case-.

She swallowed thickly and her eyes snapped open in her haste to find something, anything else to focus on. She would not consider entertaining the idea that she could lose one of them, let alone both of them. She had to keep positive, had to force herself to keep going. She was not losing anything else to that power hungry son of a bitch who fancied himself above everything else, who courted Death and the destruction brought with it. She'd be damned before she let him rip something else away from her.

She set to scrubbing her skin furiously, working at it until it burned under the hot water and looked red as Volstagg's face after he'd drank too much, and still it didn't seem to be enough, never seemed to be enough to get wholly clean, but it would have to do. She let the stinging of her skin ground her even as it set her teeth on edge and caused her to shiver even with the extreme heat of the water. They were due to hear back from the light elves of Alfheim within the next few days, Thor's emissary having been gone for the better half of a week, and with the other realms in disarray since the destruction of one of the nine realms she supposed it was no shock that it was taking a little longer to receive word. Thor had been worried that the king might take offense to Thor not showing up himself, or at least Loki, but as the latter was deep within negotiations with his brother, Helblindi having shown up in his father's stead, Laufey wanting to keep a close eye on the goings on of his own people. They'd had a certain amount of civil unrest, from what Natasha had heard when Loki had come back complaining each evening, and it was making the royal family uncomfortable. What was worse, the stone giants seemed to be amassing at the Jotun's borders, and so if Thanos attacked Asgard while Laufey's men were defending themselves, they would be at a significant disadvantage, unable to call upon the Jotuns to help defend.

Assuming they even said yes to the juncture between the two realms, of course.

Muffling a shout of displeasure and frustration Natasha dipped her head under the water, releasing one slow air bubble after another as she opened her eyes under the water to stare up at the ceiling.

The green, bug eyes of a skrull stared back down at her, the thin lips pulled into a lecherous grin, the knife she'd kept at her side held aloft, ready to swing down and stab her in the gut.

With a splutter and a cry she rose out of the tub, sloshing water around her, shouting in surprise and whipping her arms towards her foe only to find-nothing.

Only her imagination, or perhaps the pent up magic she'd yet to release, having little to no time to practice or get with either Frigga or Loki to try and train herself once more. Her wrist where her runes had been burned itched furiously, as though she'd just cast magic, and it was only when she'd followed where her right hand had been pointing did she see that she'd obliterated a rather nice potted plant that Frigga had given to her in hopes that it would help her find peace in taking care of it, as though Nat had time. Now there was a smoking hole in the wall, the smashed ceramics and dirt a guilty reminder of what had once stood there. Dammit all.

"As if it's not enough, I'm losing my damn mind as well," Nat muttered, furious with herself, pulling one of the towels nearest the bath to wrap around her before stepping out. Without her having to say a word the water changed itself, clearing up until another hot bath stood waiting for whomever needed it next, and with her dagger firmly in hand Natasha moved back to the main room, changing and strapping her knives to her body to prepare to meet the day, chin held as high as she possibly could, and doing everything in her power to keep from jumping at the slightest of noises. The people needed a role model they could look up to, one who was fearless. Strong. _'I must be their strength.'_

There was simply no room for anything else.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! If you are interested, there is a fanmix that accompanies this fic, by the same name, on 8tracks. As ever, comments, reviews, criticisms, everything is appreciated. Many thanks again!


	2. All The Tomorrows

She found Loki already sitting with Helbindi, the enormous giant's arms folded over his chest as he took in the advisor, stoic gaze calculating his elder brother. Though Natasha had thought it would be tense, having a Jotun prince at the castle in the midst of all the other chaos, she was pleased to be wrong this one time. Helbindi's presence was if anything hardly noted in the insanity of the time, and not even the Aesir could bring themselves to cause problems with the dignitary or any of his men. Natasha was proud of them for that, hoping for once the old habits of centuries past would be traded for a new peace between the two. It would be the last thing Thanos would want at the time, and anything that made him mad or dampened his plans was a boon to Nat.

Not wanting to disturb the two she pointedly looked for a seat elsewhere in the dining hall, thinking she might visit with Hogun and see how things with Vanaheim had been going, but Loki caught her attention and beckoned her closer. 'Oh, very well then.' Smiling, she kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand when she grew close enough, tipping her head to Helbindi in respect. They weren't too fond of being overly pleasant.

"Sister." The Jotun's voice was deep, mirroring the rumbling of an earthquake, and she echoed the sentiment as she took her seat at Loki's side, turning to the side to survey the enormous man. Loki said nothing, choosing instead to take a sip of water and Natasha felt her heart stutter slightly. What in the Hel was this silence supposed to mean?

"My father would prefer we visit to sign off on the treaty between Asgard and Jotunheim," Loki finally spoke, each of his words obviously weighed carefully as his green eyes met Natasha's. "He is unwilling to leave his throne for fear of-."

"Our father does not fear anything," Helbindi growled and Natasha heard his knuckles crack as his grip tensed. Loki backtracked with a barely muffled sigh.

"He worries about the restlessness of the stone giants and so desires we visit him. From there we will visit his armies and set up a method with which to contact one another, as well as approve the creation of a second Bifrost upon their land."

Natasha's head spun. The Bifrost was a new revelation, she supposed, having known about the other stipulations the treaty had begun to center around. She wondered how long it had taken Laufey to construct these ideas after having met Loki at their wedding.

_'__The craftiness of the pair of them is really astounding.' _

"How long will we be gone for?" Natasha asked, keeping her voice even as she considered the two.

"Two weeks at the least," Helbindi said, and here Loki's hand tightened on hers. Ah, the problem then.

She took a moment, pretending to consider it as she looked down at her lap, before turning back up to Helbindi. "I'm afraid we cannot agree to that length of time," she said and for a moment she felt a twinge of irritation rise towards Loki. He knew that they'd each agreed on a week at most, Thor having been adamant about it when they'd been discussing possible scenarios. It would be far too dangerous for them to be longer, no matter what the cost. Seven days and seven nights, that was all that could be spent away. So why hadn't Loki already haggled his way out of it? Why did he have her take care of the issue?

Helbindi's body tensed and he drew himself up to his full height. Even seated Natasha had had to look up to him and so him standing had certainly succeeded in making her feel tiny. As if she needed help with that; Loki might've been a runt, but he was a damn tall one.

"You will do my family great insult by not accepting. My father wishes to ensure the sincerity of Asgard extends further than their immediate need for soldiers."

The noise had risen in an attempt to allow the trio more privacy, Volstagg commanding more attention as he retold one of his more well known stories. Nat felt gratitude well within her as Helbindi looked perturbed by the lack of a response around him, as though he'd been intending to prove how false Natasha and Loki supposedly were.

"Helbindi," Natasha said, beckoning him to sit once more. His gamble hadn't paid off and she was growing tired of his childish activity.

He glowered but did as requested, jaw clenched tight. Loki visibly relaxed, having prepared for a fight, but Natasha knew better. He'd not gotten the empowering reaction he'd wanted and so had nothing to validate his violence. If he started a fight word would inevitably reach his father that his son and emissary had let his temper get the best of him, and the King did not seem like the sort to take misconduct lightly.

"I mean no insult in refusing your terms," Natasha began in earnest, leaning in to intimate that she knew and understood his fears once he'd sat back down. The frost giants had not been handled well in the past, and while it had not been Natasha's own fault she was in a position to fix it. Fix it she would. "But as your father cannot in good conscious leave the throne for too long, as royal advisor neither can Loki or myself-."

"You should not let your personal liaison influence your politics else you may not find you are in power for much longer," Helbindi interrupted, sullen, not even trying to hide the threat in his words. Natasha froze and felt her blood heat up. As if it were any of his business, honestly, and though her gaze frosted over her lips twisted into a smile.

"And you ought not to speak about what you know not about," she hissed, reaching over Loki and snagging Helbindi's arm. Rather than freezing as she thought she might, his skin seemed to burn beneath her grip, so much so that the giant's own expression changed to one of surprised pain as he tried to pull away. She held fast.

"My personal dealing sare none of your business, brother mine. What worries me is not the beast that bellows the loudest but the one who waits in the shadows until the others have exhausted themselves. Now, if you wish to keep charging in, assuming every breath I take is an offense to you, your father, or whomever you desire to bring up then fine, but I intend to fight Thanos, and I intend to win. You can scream and declare me what you wish, a whore, a traitor, whichever, but once I am finished with Thanos and have made him suffer for the atrocities he committed to my people I will certain to turn my attention to those who once screamed at me, those who refused to support me, and deal with them myself."

She hadn't noticed that her voice had risen until it rang in the silent hall, and this time not even Volstagg could come to the rescue. She refused to let her face heat up as she released the giant and, with a small flourish, stood up to exit the hall, her head held high. She barely made it out, the large doors swinging shut behind her, before she had to pull away into one of the darker nooks of the hall, her breathing shallow and her hands trembling. What the hell was she doing, threatening him? They needed him, pompous ass though he might be!

"Stupid," she muttered as she ran a hand through her hair, struggling to remember just how to breathe. "You royal fucking idiot-."

She went silent as the door to the hall opened, then shut once more. The heavy footsteps told her it was Helbindi, and Natasha forced herself to straighten, muscles going tense. She was grateful, then, for the many knives constantly strapped to her body, but whether he didn't notice her or didn't want to speak with her any more, the giant passed her by. Good. Waiting until he'd gone far enough that his footsteps became muffled, she stepped out in time to see him disappear down the hall to the scrying chamber, where he'd attempt to converse with his father likely. Assuming Laufey was in a good mood they might be able to get away with avoiding being another target.

She didn't want to think about that, though, and after palming her hands on her skirts she stepped out of the corner and made her way back towards her room. She'd eat breakfast alone, not wishing to mess up again like that.

Not that she'd get any peace, of course, not after what she'd pulled. Loki met her there not a few minutes after she'd sent food up, bursting in without so much as knocking. "What do you think you're doing?" He demanded, and she could all but taste the way the air around him had changed. He was furious, terrified, and it made her stomach turn.

"Did he already get a response from Laufey?" She asked, rising from where she'd sat at her desk.

"No, but I'll be amazed if he isn't on the Bifrost and back to Jotunheim within the hour," he spat. "You know how hard I worked to try for peace with them, Natasha? Do you understand how much time I put to even get him here?"

"Well then he should've realized to hold his tongue, shouldn't he? It's none of his business what you, Thor, and I do so long as it doesn't interfere. Besides," she said, remembering and stepping towards him. "You knew that we can't stay anywhere longer than a week, Loki. Why didn't you bother telling him that, or fight with him about it?" She'd stopped to stand in front of him, her eyes narrowed, neck hurting from having to look up. Why did all the men in her life have to be so obscenely tall? "Why'd you bring me over? You knew that I'd not agree to it."

It was Loki's turn to grow silent, and once more he was on the immediate defensive, explaining that he wasn't getting anywhere because his brother wanted to hear her opinion. He got a few minutes of conversation out before Nat snarled.

"You fucking coward," she spat. "You didn't want to tell him no, so you brought your wife over to do it for you, because I'm a woman and if things all go to hell then you can blame them on me. Norns, I thought we were over this need for approval shit!"

"What are you talking about?" He asked, stepping closer, his own voice hitting the same, dangerous low tremors that Helbindi's had. Had it been any other time she might've taken pause, or noticed how her pulse naturally raced at the sound of his voice hitting such a low tremor. Now? She shoved him backwards, beyond furious.

"You're so obsessed with getting the approval of a paternal figure-it doesn't matter if it was Odin or Laufey, now that he's at least somewhat stepping up and trying to act as though he's your father. You don't have to make them proud, Loki! Dammit why can't you just be your own person like-."

"Like Thor?" He snarled, cutting her off, one of his hands reaching to grab her chin and squeeze, hard. Her hand stretched out to strike him so hard across the face she was surprised at herself.

Second mistake of the day, it seemed.

"No. Like me." She ground out. "Since when have I ever asked or demanded your approval? Or anyone's? We do what we have to because it is for the best and-."

His lips crashed against hers, hands holding her face so that she couldn't pull away, taking advantage of her mouth being already opened to speak. She wanted to hate him, and bit at his bottom lip and tongue until she tasted blood, beating against his chest as he held her there and devoured her whole. In the end she melted against him, as she always did. She backed him up against the nearest wall, pinning him there, her hands snaking upwards to undo the leather belting and buckles that kept him from her.

"I hate you," she breathed against his lips when they finally pulled away to suck in air, eyes half-lidded and lips swollen.

"I love you." He mirrored, kissing her again. "And I'm sorry."

"Good. Then you can make it up to me," she huffed, moaning as he traced her jaw with his lips, biting and sucking at the flesh until it reddened and purpled beneath his attentions.

He endeavored to, snaking his hands down to cup her backside and hoist her up so that she could wrap her legs around his waist. Their clothing disappeared, skin hot as they pressed together all the closer, looking for more friction. Loki moaned as Natasha sucked on his bottom lip, and he managed to steer them towards the bed, cock already pressed up against her slick heat. She groaned when he laid her down and pulled away, tugging her legs so that he could bring his mouth to her already wet slit from where he knelt in front of her, sucking on the swollen flesh while his fingers kneaded the soft flesh of her thighs. She shouted in surprise when his tongue ran from top to bottom before circling around her clit, fingers already breaching her as he sucked at the bundle of nerves. She trembled and ran a hand through his hair, grabbing hold of it as he made short work of apologizing for his actions, whining when he pulled away just before she came.

"Ass," she huffed, though when he lifted her hips up to wrap her legs around his waist, sliding into her with ease and a soft groan, her thoughts went silent, little left to think about except that she just wanted more. It wasn't often that she and Loki got time to themselves, and she welcomed the rarity. He did as well, never taking her eyes off of her as he pushed into her maddeningly slowly, before withdrawing, cutting off her plea to go faster by snapping his hips hard against hers. There. Much better.

* * *

Laufey, as it turned out, was more or less impressed by Natasha's spirit, so while Helbindi had indeed complained to him the king had told them that a week was more than acceptable and fair. They'd agreed to set out in a few days time, Natasha's stomach flopping as the time passed far too quickly for her liking. Seven days and seven nights, that was promised, and Thor had assured her that he'd understood when she'd gone to him to let him know that both she and Loki were required at the meeting. He kissed her quickly and smiled down at her, his enormous hand cupping the side of her face, a comfort. It was always a comfort to see him standing, smiling back at her, when she'd been so afraid before that she would never see it again.

"Be safe," he said. "Try not to let your fury get the best of you."

She laughed though she didn't quite feel it in her gut, the sound coming out less than as strong as she'd hoped. "I'll save all the fury for you and Loki when I get back, shall I?" She teased, moving his hand to her lips so she could kiss his knuckles, before Loki knocked on the door and informed Natasha that it was, indeed, time for them to get going. She squeezed Thor's hand once more before he walked her towards the door, Loki having finished making the appropriate arrangements for them to travel and stay. He'd taught her a couple simple spells so that she would be able to keep herself warm, Loki not likely to have that problem considering his blood, and Thor left them at the start of the bridge, kissing Natasha's cheek in order to help them save face before helping her get onto her horse.

"Have safe travels you two. Contact mother if you need anything." Thor said, looking to Loki, who nodded. Natasha pressed one of the two stones that Loki had given to her before, Loki still holding onto the second, into one of Thor's hands. "If there's trouble," she said with a stern nod. They could never be too careful, especially not then. Thor assured her he would let them know the moment something happened, and with a soft pat on the rump of Natasha's horse he sent them off to meet Laufey.

* * *

A/N: Thanks so much for reading, following, and I hope you're enjoying the story so far!


	3. Alone With This Vision

She was grateful for the spells he'd taught her once the Bifrost had left them in the middle of a barren surface, at least it would have been had it not been for the welcoming committee already standing there. She hoped they weren't late, though there wasn't much that could be done about it now. She shivered and pressed two fingers to the runes that Loki had showed her and felt her blood heat up, felt the cold diminishing to little more than a minor irritant, one that quickly disappeared as Laufey stepped closer-Norns, she'd forgotten how _tall _he really was-and wrapped a white fur cloak around her shoulders.

"I bring you, Natasha of Asgard and once Midgard, under the protection of myself, King Laufey, as well as my people." He said, Loki having told her of the ceremonial words that would ensure that they would have the highest security available while staying. Laufey was not keen to make enemies with Asgard, no matter what the past might have suggested, as he was ever the pragmatic and knew that no matter how down and out they might've been, there would be a day when he would regret making enemies of them. Odin had taught him that once, and it was not a lesson he was keen to learn again.

Natasha thanked him for his hospitality and after he'd done the same to Loki, who embraced his father as best he could, the two being of such different statures, Laufey led them towards the palace. Where Asgard's citadels had far more ground room, the houses of the Jotunar crawled up to the very edges of the palace, and the people, the towering, blue-skinned giants numbering in far more than Natasha had ever thought, came to watch them proceed towards the center of the city. She had to crane her neck to try and meet the red eyes of the surrounding inhabitants, certain she'd be asking Loki for a neck massage as soon as they were in the privacy of their own room. Though no heads were bowed, as was a custom of the Aesir to greet their royalty, hands big as Natasha's face reached out to slap them on the back, lips forming shouted greetings. Children nearly as big as Natasha herself ran alongside them, grinning brightly, their red eyes vivid and alive as they laughed and motioned to Natasha's furious red hair and the white cloak that Laufey had draped around her. She was grateful for it. While the wind might not have bothered any of the Jotuns it certainly would've been the devil for her.

"Your hair is good luck to them," Loki murmured in her ear as he took her hand in his and squeezed. At least he felt warm, and she was grateful for the way his fingers twined with her own chilled ones.

"What?" She asked, unsure she'd heard him correctly.

"Red hair. It's very uncommon here, and it's a sign of good luck," he laughed. "Most Jotuns, when they grow fully, lose their hair actually," he pointed out, and indeed as they passed it certainly made it easier to tell the men from the women. Well, aside from the physically obvious aspects, of course, though even their women were far more muscular and menacing than half of the men Natasha knew. Interesting. She hoped, then, that it would bode well for their alliance if she was considered lucky to have on their side.

As they moved it was all she could do not to gawk. Laufey strode ahead of them, and she was thankful that he didn't get to see the way her mouth dropped an inch or so as she stared at the houses that towered over them, slabs of ice crafted into walls thicker than her thighs, high steepled rooftops to keep the snow from piling on it, and even as the dreary, mostly cloud covered sun hung in the deep azure sky every so often the beams of light would hit the ice just so, and she would swallow her tongue as she watched the ice burst into color, so much more than just frozen water particles placed carefully together.

The castle had very much the same quality, she noticed, as they stepped inside the doors at least three times her height, these made out of thick wood she recognized as belonging to Asgard. Good, they'd done at least some trade with their realm, and she hoped it would continue as their bonds strengthened. "Your palace, and your realm as a whole, is gorgeous, Laufey king," she complimented once the heavy door had shut behind them, closing the welcoming party, her husband, and herself, inside the enormous building. The ceilings arched far above her, thickening as they reached further up, likely to prevent the ceiling from caving in should the snows get too heavy. The flooring was made of the same wood as the doors, she was pleased to see, grateful that she wouldn't be slipping and sliding all over the place, and the heels of her boots left the softest tapping as she followed Laufey down towards where she assumed her and Loki's room would be. Laufey thanked her for the compliment, showing her the dining hall where supper would be served once she and Loki recovered from their journey, as well as where the throne room was just beside it. They would make their plans there the next day, after everyone had gotten a good nights rest from celebrating the converging of the two realms. She tried not to let her stomach flip too much at that, hoping it would all go well and according to plan. Judging by how Helbindi's face contorted at the idea, however, she wasn't so certain it would go as smoothly as she was hoping.

Loki's hand tightened on hers. They could do this.

There were two darker skinned women, her and Loki's size, waiting for the couple when Laufey finally stopped them in front of their room. It was far more lavish than she'd envisioned, the feather bed enormous and strewn with thick animal pelts, not all of which she could identify, and the eyes of the two women raised only when Laufey addressed them. The white-black reversal of their eyes made her breath catch. Dark elves. As though the white hair and pointed ears wouldn't have given it away, she supposed.

"Draw a bath for my son and his wife, I am certain they are exhausted and in need of relaxing before tonight's festivities," the king ordered, and before Natasha could find the kindest words she could think of to tell him it really wasn't necessary, they would be fine, the two women were already off and Laufey was excusing himself to allow them time to rest.

The door shutting behind them, the heavy, final sounding thud, resounded through her bones, and she and Loki were entirely alone.

On either side of the bed were two windows carved into the ice of the walls, the ice that made up the window panes thin enough to let them see outside, and that was where Natasha slowly edged as Loki slipped the trunks of theirs that the others had brought to the side. Below the people seemed to be celebrating. Though they weren't lighting fires there were sounds of cheers coming from below, parties being assembled for hunts for the feast, peddlers bringing out their wares to be sold for the day. Children ran through the streets with multi-colored fabrics trailing behind them and Natasha couldn't help but smile. Really they weren't so different than the rest of everyone, were they?

"I confess, it's not near as bad as I expected," Loki hummed softly in her ear, and she felt him behind her before anything else, leaning against his body only to find that he'd, oddly enough, adopted his Jotun form, blue arms encircling her. She smiled, tipping her head up to nuzzle against his neck and feeling his heart speed up from the attention.

"Always the pessimist," she couldn't help but tease, earning her a deep rumble of a laugh that hurt her heart. She'd not heard him so, well, light sounding in some time, and it was good for both of them that they'd come here as requested of them.

"I can't remember the last time I had you all to myself," he admitted, thin lips finding her cheek and kissing it gently, slipping lower as she moved her head to the side, offering him further access.

"You had me not that long ago," she reminded him with a playful nudge to the ribs. He dragged the fabric of her skirt upwards, grinning.

"No. I mean entirely alone. Without the worries of Thor stepping in unannounced."

Mm, yes it had been some time. "We do have servants to worry about. And what would your father say if we already raised a scandal by annoying them with your screaming?" She asked.

He snorted. "My screaming?"

"I can make you be vocal if I wish you to be."

"Perhaps you ought to show me."

She could feel him hard against her backside and the pressure made her suck in a quick breath, surprised at how easy it had been to get him going. Perhaps it had been too long since they'd just had time to themselves, without worrying about Thor. She'd rectify it, but not then. Not standing in front of a window for all of Jotunheim to see. She pulled away and kissed him instead. "Tonight," she promised. "We have a whole week ahead of us, love. Give me a few hours to adjust." She asked quietly, stroking the side of his face and smiling up at him. As though he'd refuse her that, she thought, as his face softened and he kissed her gently as well.

The servants came back shortly after, informing the pair that the requested bath was ready. Nat's mind flew to when she'd thought she saw the skrull leering down at her the last time, and shuddered. No, she wouldn't have a repeat of that, not with Loki with her at least. She hoped. They were all so prone to their own nightmares and flashbacks it was truly a miracle none of them had stabbed another as a result, and for that she was grateful.

She'd become so lost in her head that she hardly noticed Loki's nervous, unsure gaze as he stared at her and tried to get her attention, the pressure of his hand on hers tightening slightly.

"What? Sorry," she apologized, voice soft as she felt her cheeks grow warm. Whoops.

"I asked if you were ready. You went cold as the palace," he murmured, taking both of her hands in his. She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, smiling when she pulled away. Even if it wasn't her usual glow of a smile it would have to do. She wasn't certain if she could muster up another. "I got a little lost in my head for a moment, darling." She assured him. "But I'm all better now. Are you ready?"

They slipped into the water, Loki followed by Natasha, who took a seat on his lap as the heat made her lips part in a moan. It was borderline uncomfortable, in comparison to the chill she was so used to, but Loki's hands were even better than the warmth. He massaged the floral oil left out by the servants and hummed to keep both of their minds occupied, rather than allowing her to simply drift off into a stupor. It wouldn't end well for either of them, and just because Nat had left a knife beneath the claw-footed tub out of habit didn't mean Loki wanted to give her an excuse to use it.

"Do you think things will ever go back to how they were?" Loki asked, voice quiet as his fingertips probed her scalp, rubbing at the soft spot just an inch up from her temples on either side.

How could they, she wondered, when so much had happened to ensure that their life had been turned upside down? The nine realms were no longer intact, and though things might have been at a lull for the moment she very much doubted it would last very long. That they'd gone on for the duration so far was nothing short of a miracle, but how much longer could it go on for?

And how would this lull come back to haunt them when Thanos was ready for them?

They met with Laufey over dinner as planned, Natasha taking her place beside Loki on the king's right side, and did everything she could to try and keep herself calm as they went over the plans for the future and the peace between the two realms. It was a long time coming, that was certain. Her foot tapped nervously beneath the table even though Laufey remained as cordial and welcoming as ever. Whatever Natasha had been expecting it hadn't been that, or any of his welcoming gestures. It was a relief to be proven wrong for once.

"The Bifrost technicians will be brought in as soon as they are able," Loki was assuring Laufey when the doors of the great hall opened. The chill that followed crept through Natasha's spell, sinking into every fiber of her body until she was certain she'd freeze from the inside out before ever knowing warmth again. Something was flung into the hall just as Laufey rose to his feet, red eyes slimming as the blue head rolled to a stop just inches from the table, the tongue cut from the mouth and eyes gouged out. Everything went silent. From the opened door stepped a shrouded figure, draped in a cloak, his face covered by a metal plate. Loki stood as well as a volley of other heads soon followed.

"Perhaps you were enjoying yourselves too loudly, or do idiotic, nonsensical talks of peace deafen you to the cries of your own people?" The figure asked, voice like glass cracking.

The spell of silence was broken. Shrieks and screams echoed amongst snarls and animalistic grunts. Laufey, incensed, threw a dagger at the man's chest. The attacker backhanded it off course as a flurry of new attackers stormed the hall and the Jotuns, who'd previously been enjoying their food and drink, launched into action. Natasha and Loki were among them, Nat never leaving her room without at least a few weapons on her person as Loki summoned his staff. Their foes were tall, almost insect in nature how they scuttled and pointed their long, jagged spears at the oncoming Jotuns. Their chattering and screeches between one another made Natasha long to carve off her ears, yet the choking noise they made as she ripped through their throats, or else buried her knife into where she thought the heart must be, was nearly worse. Loki fought on the other side of the hall, having gone blue to unleash his own formidable power. Natasha caught a flash of fang, heard his familiar bellow of bloodlust and took heart. She pressed further, harder. Each dig of the blade was a murdered ally avenged, and so she made many. She recognized the man's voice as she heard him goad Laufey into further action and renewed her efforts to get nearer to the king and Thanos' lackey. They'd spoken of Earth's destruction, yet she wouldn't let him leave with his limbs attacked if she was able. She could only sneak glances of the jotun king, and his far shorter foe fighting, watched claw sink into bone and blade rend blue flesh from limb in equal measure. Loki and Helbindi were far too busy to take notice, each taking on the numbers that poured in from the opened doors. The feast table had been overturned, and Natasha's own adversary stumbled as his long legs hit the back of it, spitting in her face when she drew close enough to wedge her knife into its throat and pull sharply to the right, slicing through muscle and thick tissue, black gobs of blood staining her hands from the close proximity. She used the back of her other hand to clean off her face where the saliva had begun to sting like acid.

Only then did she realize Laufey was nowhere to be seen. Strange for such a tall man to go missing. Stranger, still, that the Other's forces-the Chitauri she heard him calling them-had begun to retreat. They'd been holding their own well enough, yet Natasha was one of the many who chased them out of the city, into the ruin of houses and buildings she'd walked through hours prior. Had it really only been hours ago? They'd landed crafts large enough to fit legions not far from the edges of the houses, yet without the advanced guns of the Aesir they could not fire or attack the forces.

She cursed. The first day and this happened, it figured It was as bad of fortune as she could imagine. As she cleaned the blade of her knife on her dress, feeling more worn down from that skirmish than she had in some time, her mind struggled to put it all together. What could they have possibly gained, besides demonstrating what might befall those who allied with the Aesir. They might've known that the Asgardians needed as many allies as possible, though they'd still taken an enormous risk to prove such a point. As she stepped through the broken city, heard the wailing of the injured mix with the emotional ache of the living, she felt guilt rear its ugly head once again. How much of this was her fault for destroying the spell during the Convergence? How many widows, widowers, and orphans were left because of her?

The Jotuns had gathered in the hall around something. Many had fallen to their knees, clasped their heads in their hands, or else beat their fists against their chests. From the center there came a loud howl of anguish. Her heart stopped. She didn't see Loki.

No. No it couldn't be.

Tears scorched her cheeks as she stumbled forward, shoving through the amassed bodies and sliding on blue blood until she caught a glimpse of her husband kneeling beside another figure. Laufey.

The king's heart had been torn from his chest and Helbindi cradled his head in his lap as he screamed with the agony of the loss. Natasha nearly joined them on the floor, her knees growing weak. He'd smiled and inquired about grandchildren, about the future, not an hour ago. His eyes had been bright with a familiar, similar mischief as Loki's when he'd taunted them about Thor. Now they stared at the ceiling. Blank.

A cool hand took hers and squeezed, led her away from the scene and to the room she'd occupied centuries ago. At least that was how it felt.

"What does this mean?" She found herself asking as she was sat down on the bed, looking up at Loki with disbelief. Loki was stiff in front of her, unable to meet her gaze.

"Loki. Don't do this," she said. "I need you to talk to me. Don't shut me out." She reached out and squeezed his hand. "The truce, your brother? What does it mean?"

"It will hold."

"How can you be so sure?" She asked, amazed. He still didn't look at her.

"Because I say it will. I am the king now."

* * *

A/N: Sorry for how long it took between updates, but I hope this chapter was worth it! Thanks for reading!


	4. If You Try To Run

Laufey had written up the documents once he and Loki had begun speaking of treaties, as it turned out. Helbindi fought it as hard and as loudly as he could, accusing Loki of having planned the murder of their father to ensure Jotunheim's submission to Asgard, citing that he had no love for his own country. A wolf in sheep's clothing, he called him. No one listened when Loki insisted it was Laufey's idea, and when the legality of the documents held up in the Jotun's own court Helbindi stormed from the castle, taking some three hundred men with him.

Without them, and with their substantial losses from the Other's attack, they were numbered at some 1500. Not even a full quarter of what was expected. Natasha didn't have to be a mathematician for the numbers to put her immediately on edge. What was more, their week was slowly coming to an end, and she knew the moment that Helbindi smelled even the quickest hint of weakness or dissention among the ranks he would reclaim the city, and the Norns only knew what would happen to the treaty after that. If anything, it would give him more of a reason to back off of the treaty and align himself with Thanos and the mad Titan's desires, no matter if his own life or those of his men's were at risk. He wasn't a man who was thinking clearly, too grief stricken and filled with anger to consider the pros and cons of each situation, and so as he disappeared over the blue horizon late that evening Natasha felt her heart sink down into the depths with him. What were they going to do now?

As if it wasn't bad enough, the stone in her pocket began to burn, Thor calling to her. Hopefully it was just to see how things were going, Natasha having explained to him the precarious situation that they'd been put into, and she excused herself from Loki's side to step towards the scrying station in the room adjoining the conference hall. In an effort to ensure they never went without communicating again, Loki had taught her the redimentary basics of scrying, had taught her just enough of the magic behind it that she would be able to do it, and so when she called to Thor the image was a little fuzzy. Not fuzzy enough to hide the fact that he was obviously worried about something, his brow pulled tight down in worry as he gazed up at her.

"My darling. I'm so glad to see that you are well. Aren't you?" He asked, leaning in a little closer.

"Yes, fine," she promised him with a smile. Hopefully he wouldn't be able to tell how nervous she was about the next day. "How are things there? What is wrong?" Her heart jumped at the thought that more could be going wrong, though she supposed if they had gotten attacked on Jotunheim it would only make sense that Asgard would suffer blows as well. That Thor was still alive was a boon, but still.

"I was wondering when to expect you back tomorrow. I have missed you. Greatly," he admitted, yet the lines on his face remained as hard as ever, a reminder that there was something else that was bothering him. It wasn't simply the distance that was making him nervous. Her eyes flickered between his, trying to discern what it possibly could be, but without the clear picture she couldn't make a thing out. The annoyance made her shift from foot to foot, gnawing on her bottom lip.

"I don't know, Thor. With Laufey gone Helbindi expects us to hold to the time limit that we placed before. Once we're gone, well, he'll try and take the city back I'm willing to bet anything. But if we don't leave in the alotted time he'll call us liars for giving him the time limit provided and say that we only ever intended to get Laufey killed." She and Loki had talked that bit out before, Loki worried about what his younger brother would do when the time came. What could they do when both actions were equally damming? What possible road could they take that wouldn't end in disaster?

"I need you here," Thor insisted, and his voice was edged with something that only made her more nervous. What in the nine realms wasn't he telling her?

"Just me?" She asked, and here she kept her voice quiet. If Loki overheard Thor asking for simply her, without caring whether he came back along on the journey, it would only end in an uproar between the two brothers. Not for the first time did she wonder how the hell had she happened to get into a situation, but her thoughts were cut short as he nodded his head, unwilling to give words to it. Her fears were shared, then, and Thor had always been far more clever and intuitive than those around him had given him credit for. Particularly Loki.

"What happened, Thor? Tell me everything," she insisted, hushing her voice and leaning over the shallow pool, watching as his shoulders slumped and his head hung forward. It looked almost as though she could touch his braids from where he was standing, and she longed to reach out and run her fingers through his soft cornsilk hair, but it would only disturb the image and destroy the tenuous connection. She contented herself instead with clutching the side of the basin.

"I have had an offer of peace and treaty from Alfheim," he admitted, though he couldn't have looked any less pleased about it. Natasha felt her heart plummet, her mouth going cotton dry as she stared down at him. A hundred and one scenarios passed through her head at the same time, each of them more terrible than the last.

"What'd they want?" She asked, managing to just barely keep her voice level.

"A marriage treaty between myself and the princess. As I am still unmarried and the king of Asgard they thought it would be the best way to align the strength of their warriors with our own, and solidify the ties between our two countries." She watched him swallow thickly and felt her own chest ache at the idea. Thor, married to another woman, sharing her bed when she beckoned? Doting upon someone else, kissing another woman's lips and whispering the same sweet promises in her ears as he had her own? Jealousy, hard and merciless, rose in her gut and choked whatever intelligent sentiment she might've come up with, ignored that the treaty was an easy, and a foolproof one that could help them to win this damn war, and shook her head.

"No."

"I haven't given an answer yet," Thor admitted. "I do not wish to, though Frigga is advising me to take it into dutiful, diligent consideration-."

"I don't want to lose you."

It was petty, a cheap shot taken in a moment of honest vulnerability. She loved Loki, adored her husband, but she loved Thor the same. The situation between them had been a precarious one but they'd worked it out, Natasha unwilling to figure any other compromise until the time had come, and there it was, presenting itself with bared teeth and death in its eyes. If they didn't accept the proposal then it was likely Alfheim would not help them, but if she did-. If they did, and Thor agreed, then she would lose him.

And if she didn't then they may all die either way, and there was no guarantees for what the afterlife held. Hela held no promises, played by what rules she decided to create. It was brutal, it was bloody, and it was absolute, without exceptions. So what was she to do?

The moment the words that had left her lips registered she wished she could take them back, swallowing thickly as she blinked quickly. That was stupid. A knee-jerk decision would only bring them more pain and more suffering, and if she was responsible for the destruction and death of them all then she would never allow her spirit to rest. Valhalla or not, she'd consign herself to the lowest pits of Helheim, to whatever Hela's mind could think of without question. It would be no more than she deserved, and she babbled quickly as she tried to force herself to think of something else to say, some promise that she could make to Thor.

"I didn't mean-Thor. Don't listen to me, it's been a rough day," she said, and she hated making excuses but if it got him to listen to reason then she would do it. "You need to do this. To follow through. Have you met the princess?" She asked as she wiped her face free of the anguish of the past with little difficulty. Hadn't she pulled off worse than this in the past? She'd convinced Erik that she was trustworthy, convinced Emma that Thor and Loki were worth saving, talked Odin and Loki both into allowing her to leave to track Thor and the Berserkers down. If she could do that then certainly she could pull herself together for a few minutes and salvage this.

"Natasha-."

"No, Thor. Listen to me-I need you to listen." She said, taking a deep breath. "We need them. If we're going to win, if we're going to do anything, then we need them." She said, and to her amazement she sounded as though she believed it. Not hard, she suppoed, when it was the truth, even if it was that harsh. "So that means that marrying her is a must. Is she comely?"

"Natasha-."

"Thor. Answer my question, please. I can always tell when you lie." She said, trying for a smile and knowing it turned into a grimace. Damn.

"Yes. She is." He admitted, and she watched his shoulders deflate. The truth, then. She knew it would hurt him to admit it, and her own ego took a slight blow to it. Perhaps she'd gotten too caught up in their charade, forgotten how precarious it all was and how easily it could tumble on down. She was an idiot for thinking so, she knew, and yet . . . and yet.

Her laugh sounded all the more forced courtesy of the ache in her heart. "Well then what are you complaining about? I'm certain she'll produce you with sons." She swallowed thick, doing all she could not to choke on the words. "And you'll grow to love her, Thor. And she you. You're far too easy to love, you great fool."

She watched a fat tear roll down his cheek before he could pull himself together and longed to reach out and wipe it away, kiss it away, make him forget why he was so sad however she could. She watched as he bit his bottom lip and squared his jaw and shoulders. He'd come such a long way since she'd first met him, no longer the playful boy on the cusp of manhood, obsessed with playing war. His shoulders ached with the burden of the kingdom and she wondered how long it would take before Loki's mirrored the slump, till hers did the same. She could already feel it on her back and wished more than anything to not.

"You will be fine. I'll never be far away, Thor. I promise." She said, and it was her turn to blink rapidly. "But I don't know how long we'll be here. I will do what I can to come back soon-Thor, I promise." Norns. Her voice broke on the last word and she cleared her throat and dipped her head down so he wouldn't see anything. She ached for him, to feel his arms wrap around her and hear his voice promise her that things would turn out well rather than everything going the opposite direction. How did it all come to this? "But I must attend to Loki now. As soon as I know more I will scry with you again and fill you in on what's happening. There's little more that we can do other than wait to see how it all turns out." And she hated every moment of it. "But agree to the treaty. I want you to."

"No you don't." He said, his voice cooled steel and his eyes just as hard.

"Thor. Do it. I can't-." She choked again, and found herself unable to reign her emotions back in. She shook her head, clearing her throat as hot, fat tears pushed past her eyes and dripped into the pool. The image disrupted, Thor's voice began to crack and waver, his promises that he loved her broken up as his image began to fade and disappear. Just as well, she supposed, and her fingertips released the edge of the basin as she collapsed to her knees, wrapped her arms around her sides, and cried until the ache in her chest dulled and the sun that had once been high in the sky was already starting its descent to the horizon.

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A/N: Short chapter, yes, but I hope it was very much worth it. Thank you all so much for reading!


	5. Fear is a Device So Quiet and Precise

The end of Loki and Natasha's week came and went, and the both of them stayed exactly where they were, as though Thor had never asked for them to return. Loki sent men to track Helbindi down, among them Bylestir, the youngest of Laufey's children. While the Aesir produced few children, for whatever the reason, the Jotun didn't seem to have that sort of problem. As the youngest he was eager to prove himself, promising his new king he'd return with their brother and men in tow within a matter of days, taking a small band of his own.

He returned on time, as promised, with the heads of those who he'd brought and wide, dead eyes. There were words carved into his blue flesh, words such as traitor, and psy, and others she was told didn't translate but could guess were awful none the less. How Helbindi could do that to his kin . . . well it didn't make any damn sense. What was more, Bylestir was barely able to mumble out that he'd joined forces with the Other, the very man who'd killed Laufey, and by extent with Thanos. He brought the men to their opponent's side as well. The bastard.

"Our list of allies grows thinner every day," Natasha found herself muttering as Loki recounted their losses for the hundredth time.

"At least Thor secured Alfheim," Loki said as his hand shot out to take hers and squeeze tight. She let him, chest aching. The engagement had been confirmed not two days after he'd told her and every time she heard it, she found the pain increased. The wedding had been announced to take place at the end of the month.

"Yes, he did that." She swallowed her pain. "I want to go to his wedding, Loki. You ought to go as well, though I understand if you cannot." She said, clearing her voice so it remained resolute. There was no backing down on this. It might've been her last chance to hold him, be with him in every sense of the word, before he was sworn to another.

She still didn't want to believe it, and doubted very much that it would hit her until she saw them say their vows. Her chest tightened. Then it would get even worse.

"It's too dangerous. With Helbindi searching for every, and any, weakness he can find-."

"Allow me to rephrase this," Natasha cut. "I am going to the wedding. You will stay here with your people and your kingdom if that is what you wish, I won't hold it against you. In fact, I'd rather you stayed here."

His eyes narrowed. "He's going to be married. He's already been promised and likely consummated it early. What if you mess up the arrangement between us and Alfheim? What if you lose their support?"

"Had it been me getting married you'd do the same thing. Don't deny it," she growled. She was over his petty antics, his excuses born not out of a desire to see them succeed but out of his own need and desire. He had a point, that was without a doubt, but he couldn't have cared less for the alignment with Alfheim, and instead saw only what he wanted and how to keep it. "I'm going, Loki. I would appreciate your understanding , but with or without it nothing changes. I'm still going."

He caught her arm in hand, his eyes narrowed, as she made to pull away from him. "You are married. To me. And you agreed to those arrangements knowing all too well that this was always a possibility."

"Remind me why I married you again?" She couldn't help but ground out. Pain flickered in Loki's eyes and he released her as though her touch had burned him. She ought to have felt bad, maybe even apologized, but she was too furious to even consider it when all she wanted to do was beat some sense into him. It didn't help that she hadn't been able to spar, or even find a partner for it, damn size differences. She was going crazy with all this extra energy and aggression, but there was simply nothing to be done about the matter. Loki caught her again as she made to storm out, trying to kiss her, but she shoved him away.

"Are you serious right now?" She demanded, incredulous. Honestly! What did he think would happen? "Piss off."

"I will not be cuckolded by him. You are my wife," Loki said, his eyes slitted and words chilled. He advanced on her without listening to her telling him to leave her alone. "You will never claim Thor or Asgard. You are my wife because I was the one who would take you, who loved you. Thor is as fleeting as the bloody storms he calls. Do you think he would have taken you? Hel, Natasha, after what you did to the both of us you're damn lucky that I did!"

Her fist struck his face. Hard. She made to repeat it, blinking furiously as she aimed for his gut, but he caught her fist. Her head instead knocked against his, forcing him to let her go, even if her head spun as a result, aching.

"Go fuck yourself, Loki," she spat as she turned on her heel.

"Oh, queen like behavior-that'll win Thor over," he called after her, not knowing when to stop when he got rolling.

"At least I'm better off with him," she snarled, slamming the door behind her. Where she was going hardly mattered, and she heard Loki's anguished shout reverberating around the hall she'd left him in. Honestly, what was it with him and the blood self-destruct button? Didn't the asshole understand the concept of enough being enough? He'd never quite figured out where the line was between acceptable and not, but even though she was aware of his inability to keep from harming everyone else around him just to spite them, didn't make it any easier to live with him.

She hurt even more than before and she had to stop just outside the walls of the castle. It wasn't necessarily safe for her to be there, never sure about who lived in the town still, or just how enticing Helbindi's offer might've been. She could all but hear Loki chiding her for being so careless, as though she was a child who didn't understand the rules he set down were supposed to be for her protection, but she gritted her teeth and moved her fingers the the knives at her side. She'd be fine.

Besides, she could do with a nice fight, something to take her mind off of the idiot she'd married and his hateful words. The cold winds whirled her skirts and the furs she kept herself wrapped in at all times, pulling them all the tighter around her as she stepped out and around the edge of the castle. Keeping herself pent up in there was going to be the death of her, she knew it, and though she understood Loki's fears he really needed to trust her. She'd gone and done many a thing without his aid before, had followed Thor to Midgard in order to ensure that he returned to normal without Loki's assistance, had followed him there when he was attempting to follow Odin's plans for the convergence. Didn't he understand that if she could hold herself up that well without backup outside of her own intelligence and creativity that she could at least manage to take a walk or two by herself? Perhaps it would be best if he joined her on them, if he had to. He'd barely left the palace as it was unless it was to check on the status of his people, to assure them that he was doing everything he could to hold those who'd done this responsible. But aside from that? It would do them good to see their king mingling with them more often, she was certain.

Though at the same time she considered not proposing the idea to him because, if he actually listened to her for once, she wouldn't get a damn moment away from him.

To her displeasure Natasha didn't get the fight she'd been looking for, but refused to return inside until well after dark had fallen, the little sunlight that Jotunheim got swallowed up by the ever changing landscape. It was childish of her, she knew, to wait for so long, but Loki deserved it. She'd had a whole speech planned for when he told her off, and indeed he rushed to her with a furrowed brow the moment he caught sight of her entering the great hall.

"Loki-."

"There's been trouble on Vanaheim. You and I are both to go check it out," he said, voice a whirl so that she was left, mouth open and head spinning as she struggled to comprehend it all. "We ought to have left some time ago had you not been absent."

Good to know he'd been worried. She pushed the sarcastic comment down as she considered what he was saying. "What happened? Thanos?" She felt her blood go cold and her heart beat a little faster.

He shook his head. "Helbindi."

Shit.

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A/N: Thanks so much for reading and for sticking with the story! Hope you're enjoying it, and thanks for all the support!


	6. The Spark Will Now Ignite

**A/N: So, just a warning: with this scene we begin the more intense of the fighting sequences and it gets decently graphic. Trigger warning for suicide, though it's not explicitly detailed, fire/burning, and for gore. **

**Thanks for reading either way! Jump to after the page break between paragraphs for after the graphic business. **

They set off immediately for the other realm, Loki taking twenty or so of his strongest men that he could spare, and putting Bylestir on the throne in his absence, along with his war general. Between the two of them he and Natasha both hoped they could manage to keep the throne intact, and the remaining Jotuns on his side. After all, what other choice did they have? She knew he hated leaving, but if there was the slightest chance he could bring Helbindi to heel or to their side once again then it had to be taken. As it was, Thor had left Frigga in charge of Asgard as he, and a group of the mutants, met them on Vanaheim, near the realm's capital. The two estranged brothers shared the briefest of nods in each other's direction as Natasha came forward to pull Thor into her arms for a quick, tight hug, falling into rank soon afterwards. She never knew when there'd be another chance for it, and after spotting the warriors for Alfheim among their ranks, she wasn't about to do anything other than that.

"Heimdall reported that Helbindi was seen in the village, pillaging and destroying as he wishes. There are Midgardian homes where he is centering his attack," Thor said, the group moving as quickly as they could on foot. They'd picked a spot less than half a mile away, and without any form of jumping between worlds Helbindi wouldn't be able to escape quickly enough. Natasha felt her hand immediately shoot towards the knives she'd strapped to either of her thighs, shedding the furs with a softly murmured spell. He'd done the same and she could see the sweat beading on his brow. They weren't used to such heat, especially after Jotuneheim's climate. Loki, wisely, stayed near the front, wishing to be the one to see and speak with Helbindi before things grew even more out of control, and though he took his men to the front with him Natasha opted to stay nearer to the other Midgardian and Asgardian fighters, the former's pace slower than those of the enormous frost giants. Kitty was among them, tensing and releasing her fists, brow pulled tight. Natasha wondered if the woman's nightmares had returned or if she was simply doing this to herself once she caught sight of the deep bags under Kitty's eyes. One of the boys, a thin, brown haired one, put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She thanked him, called him Peter quietly, and Natasha's attention from there was stolen by the crash heard just ahead of them, then kept by the burning fires in the not so distant city. The wails reminded her far too much of Midgard, if she was being truthful.

Judging by the tightness on Thor, Sif, and Steve's faces, they felt the same. The pace quickened, Thor shouting out directions for the Aesir to go with him, and there were already shouts and bellows from the frost giants that had made it to the clearing first. Kitty sped up, sinking through the ground and reappearing towards the clearing, Peter launching himself forward with-was that _webbing_? She didn't have time to consider it, all of them already speeding to try and get there before any more damage was done. The tree line was already on fire, and Nat had to skirt around the flames as best she could in order to get the rest of them through it, trying to take point as best she could manage. She owed them her life, owed them much more than she could ever give for not having gotten through to Thor in time. This was the least she could do. A shard of ice narrowly missed her skull, melting as it got too close to the fire, and the giant that had thrown it got Mjolnir thrown in his face as a thanks for his attack.

Once she'd heard about the attack Natasha had steeled herself for the very worst. Had she not, she might not have made it through the gore and the massacre that met her. Pieces, not even whole bodies, were strewn on the ground, some Vanir, some Midgardian, all butchered. Slaughtered, like damn animals. The wounds had frozen over before there was even time for the victims to bleed, and judging by the pain and shock that filled what faces she could find she had no reason to believe they had any warning of what was happening until it was already finished and they'd had their bodies severed.

She still felt her stomach turn, and when Thor ran forward to track Loki and his other men down she caught Steve by the shoulder.

"Stay with me," she demanded, her eyes flashing as she caught his. She didn't want to be entirely alone. He called for a few of his own men to stay behind after giving her a quick nod of approval.

"Help me find the wounded and defenseless. We need to get them to shelter and safety," she said, acting as quickly as she knew how. As though it wasn't enough that they had Jotuns to deal with, they seemed to have brought marauders with them, bands of ill-fitting scum come to rape and pillage where they could. One of them dared to get closer to Natasha once the group had disbanded to search, and she sliced through his throat as simply as if she were tearing through a piece of paper. His body convulsed, spraying blood in an arc that somehow fit her mood, before he collapsed to the ground. She was far enough away by the time he hit, taking stock of the situation that they'd been dragged into. The Vanir were a peaceful people, and the Jotuns had seemed to take pleasure in destroying everything of theirs that they could get their frigid hands on, clubs having battered down enormous houses, ice daggers having speared men and women alike as though they were beasts to be slaughtered. The giants hadn't, however, banked on the ingenuity of their victims. The forest that surrounded them had been set ablaze, cutting off the Jotun's means of escape, trapping them where they were until the fires died down. Though she was certain they were bigger when they'd first landed, before the fires were set, now, in comparison to their own giants they seemed pathetic almost. She saw a flash of black hair-still connected to a body-and prayed it was Loki and that he was safe, heard the thunder rumbling overhead as she dragged out one of the bodies from a destroyed hut, the woman shouting about the baby that didn't move in her arms and swore that if Thor made it out alive she'd be a better wife, a better lover. Better. However way the Norns saw fit.

She just couldn't lose them.

One of the mutants had managed to put out the fire to the left of the village, and Steve was leading the way out of it, carrying a little girl on his back and another woman in his arms, followed by a series of others bringing the injured away. One of the other mutants seemed to be absorbing the energy from the sun that shone above them, turning it into flames, trapping the attacking jotuns from chasing after them. To say nothing about the marauders, however. Nat shouted as she threw and buried her knife into the spine of one, running up to twist his neck quick enough to send him to the ground, a boneless heap, in the next few seconds, barely avoiding being slashed by another before she stuck her knife into his eye socket and ripped it back out to allow him to fall.

Her attention turned to the woman she'd pulled from the wreckage who was shouting at her, demanding she bring her baby back, that she needed her child. As the woman's bony fingers extended the pale, limp child in Natasha's direction, tears in the woman's deep brown eyes as she gagged on her own sorrow, Nat felt her heart tremble.

"I can't. It's dead," she felt herself saying. "I'm sorry, but we need to get you out of here."

The woman blinked once, twice. Not understanding, she pushed the baby into Natasha's arms. "Heal him," she begged. "You have magic-do it!"

Natasha felt sick. All this carnage, all this pain, and it was this child that upset her the most?

"I can't, but we need to go. Please," she begged, trying to hand the boneless body back to the woman, whose skin grew sallow and her eyes grew blank. Before Natasha could comprehend what was happening the woman was shrieking something, ripped one of the daggers from Natasha's side, and Nat had to turn her head to the side to avoid seeing her drag the blade across her throat. She gasped, tears clouding her vision as she stared at the blood stained grass, and when she looked back at the woman she could barely keep from throwing up. What in the Hel had she done?

The baby in Natasha's arms twitched, growing strength. No longer did it feel like dead weight in her arms as it began to twitch, and in her shock Natasha nearly dropped it, gasping down at the tiny body in her arms as bright brown eyes stared up at her. What magic was this?

She'd have to ask Loki later, the world coming down around her as one of the flaming trees came down to the ground with a crash, shouts of agony coming from friend or foe, Nat couldn't tell anymore, one of the Jotuns having caught on fire as he fell on the tree. Clutching the baby closer to her chest, Natasha turned and ran, not trusting herself to stay any longer. The other men would look after one another, would take care of each other, at least until she could get back to them.

Steve had managed to find a way to the main city, or at least what she could only assume was the capital of the realm, judging by how much grander everything was. He'd set up camp with their healers on the edge of it, giving Nat the shortest distance in order to hand the baby off to one of the women already gathered there. "I don't . . . he was, I thought he was dead," she said, trying to find the words to explain what she'd just seen happen, only to have them stillborn on her tongue. She could hardly believe the child was even moving, let alone cooing and raising one of its arms towards her. She stumbled backwards, the world suddenly pitching her forward until she hit the grass face first and knew no more.

* * *

Something cool was being pressed to her forehead, just as a dull throbbing climbed atop her consciousness and pressed down. Hard. She groaned, voice quiet, as she forced herself to open her eyes and blinked through the candle light at the man at her side. Loki's face was bruised, and he had a split lip, but he smiled down at her all the same, pulling the damp cloth from her forehead to replace it with his lips.

"Thank the Norns you're alive," he murmured against her skin before he pulled away. There was a snore from the other side of the room that made her jump, head turning to look far too quickly, a crick forming in her neck even as she noticed Thor sleeping in the chair in the corner.

Thank the Norns indeed. She slumped in her bed, slowly turning to smile at Loki. "What happened? I remember I brought a baby here and-."

"You had a rather nasty cut to your side. Took a few healers in order to get you stitched up properly. You were so pale when I came back I thought-." She watched his adam's apple bob with his painful swallow, watched him gather himself again. "We got Helbindi. He's in the dungeons right now, under watch by one of the mutants. Roberto, or Bobby, he calls himself I believe. They all have a plethora of names and there are so many of them to begin with." He sighed and seated himself at chair near her bed. "How are you?"

"Exhausted. But good. Tell me how you got him? Did we lose many in the attack?"

He shook his head and pressed one of his fingers to her lips. "Not important. You're alive. That's what matters."

"Loki, I watched a woman sacrifice-she literally killed herself and somehow brought her baby to life. She wouldn't have had to if we'd found out a way to stop Helbindi in the first place. This is important," Nat choked, her eyes brimming with tears she knew she had no control over, as though her body was trying to push the shock out of her as best it could. "Please. I need to know."

Loki grew silent and still beside her, dropping his gaze as his fingers played with the cloth. "We lost all of the soldiers that came with us from Jotunheim, as well as those whom Helbindi brought with him. It was only a small faction of his true numbers, though now that he is our prisoner, for lack of a better word, it is unclear whether or not they will follow him should his allegiance change or if they will fight for Thanos."

"And Helbindi himself?" She asked, trying not to think of the twenty men who'd died fighting for her and this war they had no other claim in, and how she didn't even know their damn names.

"Unsure as to what he'll do. He's badly beaten, but more than that he's hurt over our father's actions. I understand it, but I cannot get through to him that I do not wish to be his enemy. So, I cannot say what will happen."

It was understandable. None of them wanted to get their hopes up, it would only end in disaster. Oh how the fates loved to toy with their hopes and expectations. Natasha had already gotten so lucky keeping both of her men at her side for as long as she had, keeping them both alive despite all the odds. How many more chances was she going to get?

"What about the damage done to Vanaheim?" She forced herself to ask, clearing her dry throat. He offered her a goblet of wine, which she accepted with a murmured thanks before downing it. It was sweet, spicy and warm, and more than that felt like absolute perfection on her throat.

"Extensive. That town was obliterated, but more than that the confidence in our cause . . . we won but with very heavy casualties, Natasha. It will not go unnoticed that we can hardly police and patrol the realms as he have once before. Since Midgard's demise, well, having the armies from Alfheim might be our only chance at trying to prove that we can take care of our own and all those under our protection. I hope."

He hoped? They were going to need a great deal more than that, this they both knew. But he didn't want to talk about it anymore, instead asking if he could crawl into bed with her. She nodded, shifting to the side, and with his arm wrapped around her shoulders, her head on his chest, she pretended to fall asleep to the steady beating of his heart. Only then did he quake beneath her, trembling as he struggled to breathe evenly, and before long she smelled salt in the air. He didn't say anything when her arm tightened around his waist, just breathed her in and let out a shaky gasp of pain, one they all felt so keenly.

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A/N: Alright, thanks so much for reading and I'm sorry for the delay between updates! Hope this was worth it!


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